


Thanks for Family

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Protective Dean Winchester, Schmoop, Season/Series 10, Sick Sam Winchester, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2678219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. With Sam sick from a hunt, he and Dean share Thanksgiving with their extended family…complete with unexpected hassles, possessed poultry and the realization that in deed family doesn’t end with blood. *Sick!Sam & frustrated/protective!Dean with guests* Set S10 but not too many spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanks for Family

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: I’ll warn for minor language and the promise that no real turkeys were harmed in the writing of this story.
> 
> Tags/Spoilers: Not tagged to anything and while set in Season 10 I don’t think it contains any real spoilers for the episodes.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
> 
> Author Note: Okay, so I try to write 1-shots for holidays and this one shall be this year’s Thanksgiving piece. It’s pure fluff and schmoop and I honestly don’t know where it came from since I just began writing. Enjoy and my warmest wishes to all and Happy Thanksgiving!

**Thanks for Family**

****

“Goddamn it! Don’t you dare shoot that thing inside my house!”

“Why? You had zombies inside your house. This is about as bad!”

“Whoa! Dude, black eyes! Black eyes! That turkey has black eyes!”

“ _Sonuvabitch_! Jody! Did you get this damn bird from where Bobby used to buy his?”

“Well, it is the only turkey farm in the area so of course I did. Why wouldn’t I…oh, crap.”

“Yeah, this time I want the name and address of the damn place because before Sammy and I leave Sioux Falls we’re paying it a visit cause this ain’t the first possessed bird I’ve had to shoot or that I’ve seen Bobby shoot.”

“Dean…damn it, tell me your middle name so I can use my Mom voice properly and you! Werewolf Boy! Put that down because if either of you think you’re shooting that bird in my kitchen then you’re both insane! Middle name, Winchester?”

“My middle name is by need to know and there is no way I’d give it to you so you could actually use it in that tone, Sheriff. Not even my little brother, who is missing all the fun hacking his lungs up currently by the sounds of it, knows my middle name. Now move so I can either shoot that thing or try to pin it down so Garth can exorcise it since I think the bird weighs more than him.”

“Don’t you…damn it, Dean! Anything you break you’re fixing tomorrow! And don’t try to put it off on Sam because you let your brother get tossed in an icy lake by something big and hairy so he’s sick, which also means you’re not stepping foot off my property until he’s not coughing up a lung or I’ll cuff your ass to something.”

“Umm, excuse me? But do you always talk to him that way?”

“Honey, I’ve talked to Dean Winchester that way from the moment he and Sam first tried to con their way around me before my town got invaded by the walking dead.”

“That…ouch…was five damn years ago! Won’t you let that drop and Garth! You’re a werewolf and that bird just put you on your ass. Your wife could probably put it down if she wasn’t currently keeping an eye on Sam for me. Get with it or distract the Sheriff so I can shoot the damn thing or something!”

The aforementioned younger Winchester was in the midst of deciding what was worse: being sick from getting tossed in a lake by what he’d go to his grave swearing was Sasquatch or being stuck on the couch of Jody Mills’ home in Sioux Falls South, Dakota listening to the carnage that was taking place in the kitchen.

He and Dean had gotten the call the week before that they were expected at Jody’s place for Thanksgiving and the woman wasn’t taking no for an answer. She’d flat out said she’d put out an APB on their asses if they weren’t on her doorstep at a certain time and both hunters knew the woman wasn’t bluffing.

Of course it wasn’t their fault they stumbled on a hunt on the way and Sam didn’t even blame Dean for him being tossed in the lake as he’d been covering his older brother after the too damn quick big furry thing had thrown Dean into a tree.

The thing got away and Sam started to cough two nights later. By the time they met up with Garth and his wife, Bess, after Jody said they could invite people if they wanted, the cough had turned into brutal hacking, and a fever to the point where Jody had taken one look and merely pointed to the bedroom as she greeted the hunter turned werewolf and his wife warmly before beginning her tirade at Dean.

That had been three days ago and Sam was happy that he was finally better to graduate from bed to couch…until he heard the sound of squawking, yelling, cursing and the shotgun going off in the kitchen.

“Oh my God,” he groaned, burying his head under a pillow with thoughts of another holiday they’d shared with Bobby Singer and a possessed bird filling his head.

“The Sheriff and your brother are fighting,” Bess Fitzgerald was a young blond woman…werewolf, Sam corrected mentally, as she stood between the couch where he’d been banished and the kitchen where feathers could be seen flying as the rather large live turkey seemed to be avoiding the actual two hunters while Jody just tried to salvage her kitchen. “Umm, do you come across possessed poultry a lot? Garth never mentioned it so…”

Sam poked an eye out to wince as something crashed, Jody yelled and Garth let out a yell in pain as if bit. “No, I think it’s just Winchester luck that we get the possessed food,” he blew out a heavy breath but decided he better make an effort to help and started to stand up.

“Sam! Don’t you dare try to move!” Two different voice but with an identical tone shouted from the kitchen as if both Jody and Dean had caught his movement.

“You…you need help, Dean,” he argued but sighed as he fell back when his head ached too much and swore that icy lakes were off his list of things to hunt near or by.

“I have this!” Dean shot back while silently splitting his attention between the possessed feathered fiend in the kitchen and checking to be sure his brother was following orders. “Garth and I…okay, never mind that plan since…dude, you’re going to get kicked out of the werewolf union for sucking at trapping a damn turkey in a confined space with a demon killing blade!”

“Hey, that thing’s mean!” Garth was still skinny which meant he was agile before being turned to a werewolf but he’d give credit where it was due and admit that bird was better…and seemed to be playing with them.

Jody Mills rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bowl of potatoes to hand them off to a wide-eyed Bess before finally making a choice. “Hey!” she yelled to grab Dean’s attention. “That thing’s a demon possessed turkey?” she asked while digging in a drawer by her phone.

“Yeah!” Dean swore under his breath as every time he thought he had a shot with the shotgun that he knew he’d be skinned for using inside the house the damn evil bird dodged but so far he and Garth were keeping it confined to the kitchen and away from Sam. “Black eyes usually scream demon.”

“Fine. Do demon possessed turkeys fall under the control of a certain little runt that I still hate for trying to kill me with a hex bag?” Jody asked, finally coming up with a scrap of paper.

Dean was too busy aiming to pay attention to the full question or the meaning behind it. “Yes, Crowley can be blamed for demon poultry…wait, what? Why do you….Jody? Who’re you calling?”

Sam was trying to get up again when Jody stepped from the kitchen, pulling the door shut behind her to keep the fight in the kitchen as she leaned up against it while holding the phone to her ear and shooting him one of her better ‘Mom’ looks to stay put.

“Hey! I have a black eyed turkey in my kitchen that Dean swears is possessed. He says demon poultry can be lain at your doorstep so get your ass up here or call this bird back to hell and I might not shoot you full of Holy water the next time you threaten my boys!” she snapped in a tone eerily familiar to the late Bobby Singer when he was pissed off and ordering people around. “Front door’s open. You can come as far as it since I learned to demon proof my house from the best just come handle this before the two hunters in my kitchen blow it or themselves up!”

“Jody? Did you just…” Sam was frowning as it began to settle who the Sheriff might have just called when a voice he swore would always grate on his nerves could be heard from over his shoulder by the front door.

“Hello, Moose. A little under the weather I see?”

Before the sick hunter could get to his feet or try to tell Bess to yell for his brother since Sam knew his lungs would never get his voice to be heard over the noises now coming from the kitchen he blinked when Jody’s hand shoved against his shoulder to keep him still but effectively put herself between him and Crowley.

“You don’t bother him. You get that bird out of my kitchen or I will make sure you hurt!” Jody snapped in her best no nonsense tone learned from too many years of dealing with Winchesters and Bobby, then added with narrow eyes. “And don’t think that because I’ll forgive you for trying to kill _me_ that I’ll forgive what you pulled with Dean! Now, call that black eyed bird out of my house or unpossess it something! I need turkey for Thanksgiving and your demon is ruining my dinner!”

“She has such a way with words too,” Crowley said to Sam while sighing as Jody moved to the closet to remove what looked like a massive water gun. “Holy water in a squirt gun, darling? Not very…ow! Bloody hell, woman! I was just making conversation! I didn’t know one of my followers was up here running a bloody poultry factory in Bobby Singer’s back yard!”

“Get the bird, Crowley!” Jody snapped, pumping the water gun with deadly precision as something else crashed in the kitchen and Dean snarled in Latin.

“Whatever you wish, my dear,” Crowley snapped his fingers and just like that the noise in the kitchen stopped except for some startled shouts from Garth and a growl from Dean who slammed out of the kitchen with the demon killing blade he’d retrieved from Garth in his fist. “Hello, Squirrel. The good Sheriff called me to deal with a pesky poultry problem you were having…oh, and Moose sounds like hell. You’d best get some of that cough crap he hates to take. Happy Thanksgiving. Ta-ta, boys.”

Sam figured if he didn’t feel like hell and Dean wasn’t in the midst of snarling that he might find all of this really amusing. “So…pizza?” he coughed.

“No, we’re not having pizza for Thanksgiving,” Dean snorted, wincing as he took the slap to the head from Jody like he would from Bobby as he sat down on the edge of the sofa to eye his brother critically. “Damn, I hate when Crowley’s right. You need the cough crap.”

“No, I don’t,” Sam didn’t mind being sick; he minded taking the medicine to get him over being sick. Usually with Dean he’d have a fighting chance to avoid the foul tasting cough medicine but as Jody Mills and Bess Fitzgerald both eyed him sternly he seriously doubted if he’d be that lucky. “Dean…” he decided to try his own secret weapon only to see his brother smirk and lift his hands as if in surrender.

“No way, little brother. Puppy eyes work on me but I’m not arguing with the Sheriff so if she goes ‘Mom-tone’ on your ass for taking the meds then you’re dealing with her while I find us a turkey to cook,” Dean had dealt with Jody before and wasn’t about to push his luck given the state of her kitchen. “It’s a good thing I made that SOS call before we got here…now if he just remembers to bring a dead bird we’ll have it made.”

Jody shook her head as she got closer to eye Sam with a shrewd eye. “Meds and then food while your brother and Garth clean my kitchen so Bess and I can get back to cooking,” she decided, looking up at the sound of a car in her driveway. “Have I mentioned I’m not fond of Angels any more than I am of demons, Dean?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that and I usually agree with you but he comes in handy,” Dean shrugged, looking through the peephole of the door to be sure he didn’t see any living turkeys before opening it. “Tell me you brought a thawed out bird?” he asked hopefully before eyeing the bags in Castiel’s arms.

“You said to bring one so I did,” the angel replied as Jody took the heaviest bag to look inside it. “Thawing was difficult and I did get some odd looks on my way here given that I tied it to the hood in hopes the heat from the engine would…Dean? Why are you banging your head against the wall and why is Garth laughing like that?”

Sam had blinked as he considered the image of Castiel driving the out of date car with a frozen turkey tied to the hood and figured taking the cough medicine and sleeping for the next six hours wouldn’t be too bad after all.

It was too a familiar touch rubbing over his shoulder that woke Sam hours later. He blinked to see that evening had set but the house now seemed calm with the smells of food from the dining room making his stomach remind the younger Winchester that he hadn’t felt much like eating since getting sick.

“We’re lucky,” he mumbled, rolling over from where he’d managed to flop on the too small couch so his face was buried in the corner of it since he didn’t want to be in the bedroom; his brother’s voice still able to reassure Sam even if he was sleeping if he knew Dean was close.

“For what? That the Sheriff doesn’t have us arrested for destroying her house…again?” Dean asked but smiled slowly, knowing what Sam meant as he watched his brother wake up fully like he always would when sick; rubbing his eyes and shaking restless bangs that always seemed to fall in his face when sick or hurt.

“To have family like we have,” Sam pushed up but went still when he felt an arm slip around his shoulders to hold him for just a moment; Dean’s way of giving support without vocally doing it.

“Family doesn’t end with blood like Bobby always said and I guess we can still claim some family,” Dean nodded, standing to extend a hand to help his brother to his feet and then steady him. “However dysfunctional as they may be given we’re sharing Thanksgiving with a cop, two werewolves, and an angel who’s missing his non-existent girlfriend without realizing that’s what he’s doing…and a ghost and his Mom.”

Sam had been smiling at that when he suddenly looked over at Dean, eyes widening. “You called and got Mrs. Tran and Kevin to come?”

“I gave Jody her number once and it seems they’ve bonded over the harrowing experience of dealing with you and me,” Dean snorted as he gave Sam a nudge into the dining room and was prepared for the dressing down he was about to get by another surrogate mother type even as Mrs. Tran gave a still sick looking Sam a look before zeroing in on him while Kevin, spirit or not, sat next to Garth to share knowing smirks.

Sam wasn’t up to eating much right then but he enjoyed being able to sit at an actual table to share a meal with what he realized as he looked and listened was the closest thing to family he and Dean had.

“Dean! Don’t you dare…”

“Kevin! Don’t you dare…”

“Why are Dean and Kevin throwing biscuits at one another?”

Sam hid his smile as he closed his eyes for a moment to give silent thanks for allowing him to have his brother with him still and for their family…no matter how unusual it may be.

**The End**


End file.
